“She committed suicide, Howell. Nothing more to it.” Jasper retorted.

  “Bullshit, Jasper,” Annie retorted. “Something happened to her. And you all know it.”

  The boys sat quiet. No-one uttered a swift denial, and that was all the information she needed.

  “How long did it take for you to figure that one out?” James smiled.

  “I don’t know,” Annie shrugged.

  “Well, you sure you wanna know?” Theo said tentatively.

  Annie sighed, rubbing her face with her hands. She needed to face whatever was coming her way, no matter how tired she was. “I’m sure,” she muttered.

  James licked his lips, a pensive look etched onto his face. His brilliant green eyes became alight with quiet determination. “Do you know why we bullied Natasha?”

  “Because she was a scholarship student.”

  “Wrong,” he said instantly.

  “What?” She frowned.

  “It’s more complicated than that,” he briefly glanced at Tristan, as he examined the wrinkles in his hands with an unusual intensity. “She dated Tristan. For a year.”

  “Oh,” she glanced at Tristan. He didn’t look up. “I-I don’t…”

  “One day, Tristan found out she was cheating. It wasn’t hard to figure it out; the evasive answers, the secret text messages, the unexplained hickeys. It was all there.”

  Annie wondered how Tristan was comfortable with James relaying his dirty laundry out in the open, like they were talking about a shopping list. Tristan inhaled deeply, looking up and around the room. He didn’t want to be here.

  “So you punished her?” Annie said cautiously.

  James hardened his jaw.

  “We acted out of anger. It wasn’t right, but... we weren’t thinking straight,” James said.

  “And that excuses what you did?”

  “It doesn’t,” he said tightly. The flashes of anger were threatening to break through, but he held it together, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. He opened his eyes, gazing at Annie. “We made a mistake.”

  “It’s late for that now, James. A girl died because of what you all did to her,” Annie said.

  Tristan’s brows furrowed, his eyes glinting in anger. “We weren’t the reason she killed herself.”

  “What makes you so sure? Huh?”

  “Watch it, Howell,” Jasper threatened.

  “No, tell me, what am I missing? Hmm? You were dating a scholarship kid, you fell in love, she cheated on you and you all mercilessly bullied her as payback. The girl then jumps off the school tower after everything she’s been through, and you’re saying you weren’t the reason she did that. Am I missing anything?”

  “Annie, it’s not like that,” James retorted.

  “Then what?” She bit back. “What is it like, James? Because from where I’m standing you all look guilty to me.”

  “She…” James trailed the first time he looked unsure of what to say. He glanced at Tristan, almost seeking permission to continue. There was something else. That could be the only thing to explain that look. “Tristan?”

  He pursed his lips. The haunted expression that marred his beautiful face turned to the boys before resting on Annie. Two heavy, weighted seconds passed by before he nodded. James exhaled, turning back to face Annie.

  “Natasha was... she....” James cleared his throat, straightening his back. Whatever he had to say was sitting in his throat, like a cancerous tumor; heavy and burdensome. “Fuck it. She was sleeping with a teacher.”

  Silence descended upon the quiet Leviathan common room. The boys shifted in their seats, already familiar with the harsh truth but still pained when they heard the words come out.

  “She was... what?” Annie breathed.

  “Natasha was having an affair with a teacher, Annie. We saw the messages and we have the evidence, but we just don’t know... who it is,” he said solemnly.

  Annie surveyed the room. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. A part of her wanted for all of this to be a big prank, for them to laugh at her for her gullible nature, and only then could she take solace because something as sinister as that was not true.

  “You’ve got to be - “

  “We’re not lying,” Jasper said firmly.

  Annie couldn’t form the words. She gaped at James in utter disbelief.

  “He’s right. In her messages, the texts say explicitly that what they were doing had to be kept a secret because he was teaching here. We can’t identify the number. The sim was destroyed and any link to it has vanished. Believe me, I’ve tried,” Theo said.

  “How could you all be so stupid?” Annie said suddenly.

  The boys stilled, unsure of her meaning. She hardened her gaze, straightening her back.

  “You think that was an affair?” She grimaced. “That wasn’t an affair, you idiots! It was sexual abuse! And you punished her for it?”

  “We didn’t know it was a teacher at first! We just...we just thought she was cheating with another student,” Theo said fervently.

  “Oh, that’s better!” Annie scoffed.

  “Annie -” James interjected.

  “No, James! No! You have evidence a teacher abused that Natasha - a teacher that we are supposed to trust - and you keep that information to yourselves?”

  “We are handling it!” James shouted. He stood up in fury, a vein pulsing in his forehead. “You think we’ve been sitting on our arses, doing nothing about this? Why do you think we tried to break into Lyle’s desk?”

  “Lyle? You think Lyle has something to do with this?” Annie baulked.

  “Like I said,” he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his shiny hair. “We’re handling it.”

  “What... what are you hoping to find?” She frowned.

  “Photos,” he said. “Whoever it was took photos. It was in the messages.

  Silence. It permeated the atmosphere in the room. The four mighty Barons kept quiet, consuming the severity of Natasha’s suffering. Tristan looked like he couldn’t take another second in this room.

  Annie tilted her head, her forehead etched in concern. “Tristan?”

  Tristan bit his lip, not looking at Annie. There were unshed tears threatening to spill over. He cleared his throat suddenly, rubbing his face. “I’m fine.”

  Theo looked at Tristan, worried for his friend. James shook his head, sitting down.

  “Look, Annie,” James started. “The Christmas break is our chance to infiltrate his office with no distractions. It’s our last chance to find something in that desk of his. Are you with us or not?”

  “You want to break into Mr Lyle’s office? During the holidays?”

  “Yep.”

  “What makes you so sure it’s Lyle?” Annie queried.

  “She had private tutoring lessons with him,” Tristan murmured. He flexed his hands, almost trying to relieve the tension in his muscles. “He’s the only one who had that much access to her schedule.”

  “Oh,” Annie whispered under her breath.

  “So the question is, Howell,” James said smoothly, crossing his legs. “Are you with us or against us?”

  ---

  Mr Lyle sat at his desk, watching the three students sit quietly, all next to each other. He frowned slightly. He had never seen Annie on such cordial terms with Jasper Rashford and James Knightley before; they had sat in the same row with each other. They were a few spaces apart, but Mr Lyle knew something had changed.

  “Something’s going on,” Mr Lyle narrowed his gaze.

  Annie smiled brightly. She had prayed he wouldn’t be able to tell that they were going to ransack his office.

  “I don’t understand what you mean, sir?” Jasper said lightly.

  “You all look…”

  “Cordial?” James smirked.

  “Yes, that,” he said.

  “Well, I didn’t really want to mention it, but Annie and I have developed our relationship to lovers and I couldn’t possibly hide from my other half,” he grinned.

  “James!” Annie shouted incredulously.

  She wanted the ground to bury her whole.

  “Darling, it’s not good to shout,” James drawled. “You might as well admit I’m your boyfriend.”

  “You are not my boyfriend!” She scoffed.

  “That’s not what you said the other -”

  “James, shut up!” Annie screeched.

  “Quiet, both of you!” Mr Lyle bellowed.

  They went silent; Annie scowled in her chair, Jasper looked amused and James seemed fairly relaxed. This was a strange group.

  “This is your last day in detention. Try to act like you don’t want to make it another three weeks, please. I’m already sick of your faces,” Lyle sighed, turning back to his papers.

  James nodded to Jasper, starting the signal. Jasper grabbed his phone, texting the instructions to Theo. Less than one minute later, Mr Lyle’s computer made a loud ping. Lyle turned his gaze from his papers, moving to his computer. After a few seconds, his brows furrowed, reading the screen with a glint of frustration.

  He looked at the three students, his eyebrow raised. “I have to go out for a few minutes. Appears Mr Defoe needs me for a moment. Don’t do anything stupid. I have eyes and ears,” he warned. He moved up from his desk, quickly putting his coat on.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Jasper said.

  “That means you too, Knightley,” Lyle warned.

  “Scout’s honour,” he replied.

  Annie was sure he had crossed his fingers behind his back.

  Lyle left the room, leaving the three of them alone. They turned to each other, nodding with intent as they headed over to his desk.

  “Are we sure about this?” Jasper raised his dark eyebrows.

  “Bit late to back out now, mate,” James murmured distractedly as he tried opening the desk drawers. Finding no luck, he grabbed a pen from the table, moving it inside the keyhole and maneuvering it until he felt some click.

  Click.

  Jasper and Annie widened their eyes, watching as James opened the desk drawer.

  She didn’t really know what she was expecting.

  Annie had hoped that the Barons’ theory was a load of shit. That was easier than believing that what they had predicted was true.

  And the evidence was right in front of her.

  All the pictures.

  Along with others.

  “They’re all here,” Jasper breathed.

  “No…” Annie shook her head profusely. “This…”

  “It’s real.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” James seethed. He moved away from the desk, marching towards the exit doors, but he stopped in his tracks. Lyle was standing by the doors, shutting them quietly. He adorned a dark, pained expression on his usual kind face.

  “Don’t you know it’s rude to go through someone’s things?” Lyle drawled. He walked over slowly to them, exactly like a predator.

  Jasper stood in front of Annie, providing a protective shield. She didn’t know what to do. The situation evolved into a monster that she couldn’t control.

  “Sir... what are these photos?” She murmured quietly. Annie raised the photos up, watching as Lyle’s expression darkened.

  “Give me those, Annie,” he said firmly, moving towards her. James stood in his way, his hands clenched in angry fists.

  “Don’t you come anywhere near her.”

  Lyle glared at James, a wild expression etched into his face. “Give me the photos.”

  “I think we’ve sold the mystery surrounding Natasha’s death. Don’t you think, sir?” James taunted.

  “You pathetic, spoilt boys know nothing. You think you got something here? It’s sad; you all need better hobbies,” he sneered.

  “Annie,” James said without turning.

  “W-what?” Annie murmured.

  “Run.”

  Annie widened her eyes, whipping her head around to Jasper who had prompted her to go with a motion of his head. She turned back to the front. Lyle was openly glaring at her. How the heck was she supposed to -

  “GO!” James bellowed.

  Annie ran with the pictures in her hand, not knowing what fate had in store for her. She could see Lyle dash towards her but was intercepted by Jasper and James who had tackled him to the floor.

  “Get the fuck off me!” Lyle yelled, struggling under their death grip.

  James glanced at Annie, an urgent, frantic look in his eyes. “Go, Annie! Show them to Defoe! Now!”

  She nodded, running out of the room, and straight down the corridor. A faint shouting echoed behind her. Turning around, she saw that Lyle was chasing after her, having broken free from the two boys. Jasper and James were right behind him, but Annie had to keep running. She had to keep going.

  “Come back here, Annie!”

  Run, Annie.

  Don’t stop!

  She felt her legs ache, slowing her pace. She was terrified he was going to catch her.

  As Annie sprinted down the corridor, she saw Verity at her locker, turning towards Annie with a bewildered expression. She glanced behind Annie, seeing an angry Lyle charge towards her.

  Without hesitating, Verity stuck her foot out.

  Lyle crashed down to the floor, swearing loudly.

  Annie stopped in her tracks, turning behind her. She glanced at Verity, who gave her a firm nod.

  “You saved me,” Annie breathed desperately.

  “Don’t sweat it,” she shrugged, glancing at Lyle’s injured body.

  “Why?”

  She gave Annie a sharp look. “Just because I don’t like you Annie, it doesn’t mean I want you to be chased down the school by a madman. Especially one that looked like he wanted to hurt you.”

  Annie nodded gratefully before darting down the corridor until she reached the far corner to Defoe’s office. She stopped outside the door, unsure of her next step.

  The last encounter was a frosty one.

  Stop it, Annie.

  You need to do it for Natasha.

  Knocking on the door, she went straight into the office, finding Defoe working at the desk, with a pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

  “Well, well,” he drawled. “If it isn’t Miss Howell. I was just thinking of calling your guardian about your behaviour.”

  “Natasha was sexually abused by one of your teachers,” Annie blurted out, huffing.

  The colour from Defoe’s face washed away. He stiffened at her words. “What did you just say?”

  “I have proof,” she said, shoving the incriminating photos to his hands.

  Defoe surveyed the images carefully with a neutral, stoic expression. There was no change in demeanor; a simple glance at the images.

  “Thank you for bringing these to me, Annie. I will handle this immediately and notify the authorities,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said hesitantly. “Mr Lyle is outside in the corridor, James and Jasper have him.”

  He looked up, a faint glimmer of surprise before it simmered away. “Yes, thank you. I will handle it from here.” He stood up from his chair, moving around the desk and around Annie. He gave her an unreadable expression. Something that unsettled her soul. “You’re a curious creature, aren’t you, Annie?”

  What?

  Annie shivered uncomfortably, not understanding the meaning of his words. Did he…

  No, she thought.

  It couldn’t be…

  “Sir!”

  There wasn’t enough time to dwell on it; Verity came rushing in, watching Defoe with a suspicious expression before shaking her head.

  “Sir, you need to come outside,” she breathed shakily.

  Nodding, Defoe gave one last furtive glance at Annie before heading out. Verity looked at Annie, resigned and tired.

  “You okay?” She asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Annie frowned.

  Verity said nothing after that.

  ---

  After Lyle was caught with the incriminating pictures of Natasha, he was immediately suspended from his position at Barcourt. Defoe assembled all the students for an urgent meeting.

  He was livid that such an atrocity occurred on school grounds. Child grooming and sexual assault. It marred the reputation of Barcourt.

  The Barons sat in the audience, watching Defoe with cautious interest. Annie was seated next to James, a rare display of camaraderie and support.

  “This is bullshit,” Annie murmured under her breath.

  James tilted his head, leaning towards her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Something’s not right, James. It doesn’t feel...like we got to the bottom of her death.”

  “What do you mean?” He whispered.

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

  “You think there was someone else?”

  Was there? Annie couldn’t be sure. There wasn’t any other proof; Lyle was the one caught with the pictures, he was the one who admitted to having a relationship with Natasha - what more could she doubt?

  “No,” she denied. “It’s fine, never mind.”

  --

  Once the assembly was over, the boys and Annie walked out of the main hall, strolling to their next class. Verity gave Annie a small smile before gliding past with Anchal in tow.

  Small wins, Annie.

  “So, does this count as a ceasefire?” Annie said.

  “It means you’re an approved guest to Leviathan, Howell,” Jasper smirked, taking a bite out of an apple.

  James gave her a pointed stare, relishing in the way her cheeks flushed. “It means much more,” he suggested.

  “No, thanks,” Annie said curtly. She stopped in her tracks, turning to face the boys. “Look guys, I appreciate your help and everything - really, really appreciate the ‘not-bullying-Annie-pact’ - but I think I need some space.”

  “From us?” Theo widened his eyes.

  “What did we do now?” Tristan murmured in disbelief.

  “I just want to focus on my grades until Christmas. Some of us are here on scholarship and need to pass.”

  “Ah, the scholarship excuse,” James drawled.

  Her vision whipped round to James. “It’s not an excuse.”

  “Sounds like it to me.”

  “James.”